


Fireworks Displays

by Robiness



Category: RWBY
Genre: 4+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, But Clover immediately puts a stop to it, Drunken Kissing, Fireworks, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Light Angst, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Years, No V7/V8 Spoilers, Pining, Rated for swearing, Snippets, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28752705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robiness/pseuds/Robiness
Summary: Four transitions to a new year from Qrow’s perspective and one from Clover’s.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31





	Fireworks Displays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatacartouchebag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacartouchebag/gifts).



> Cart, you're my recipient for the holiday exchange over at the Fair Game Effect Discord. I'm sorry this didn't come at a more seasonally-appropriate time, but I injured both my wrists over the holidays and the pain doesn't allow me to use gadgets for more than a bit every day. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy this fic nonetheless and that your (and any other readers') 2021 makes a heck of a lot more sense than last year!
> 
>  **WARNING:** There is a scene wherein it's implied that Qrow was just self-destructively abusing alcohol because of what happened to Summer Rose. There's no actual drinking scene, but it is apparent that he is drunk and grieving. If you'd rather avoid this, you may skip the entirety of section "3" or click off the fic. I won't be offended or anything, please do take care <3

**_1_ **

Beacon Academy hosted a much-anticipated, annual winter festival. Stands were set up on the school grounds— endless food stalls, carnival games, low-stakes combat rings and far more people than Qrow felt comfortable with. Ozpin, being Ozpin, never failed to take the opportunity to play host to the other kingdoms. The students were expected to mingle, to “get to know each other” and “nurture camaraderie between kingdoms”.

“We have to do this every year until we graduate?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Quit whining. What’s important is that we get to scope the other schools.” 

Qrow eyed the giggling teenage couples circling the cheesy booths made exactly for that demographic. “What valuable intel,” he scoffed. “I can’t wait for the Vytal Festival. We’ll be _really_ working, then.”

“At least we don’t have to show our hand here.”

“ _No one_ is showing anything other than the fact that they’re all snot-nosed spoiled brats. I should’ve stayed in the dorm or snuck into the training hall.”

His sister didn’t even bother to roll her eyes this time, just got up and left him brooding alone. Presumably to go ‘scope’ elsewhere. 

“Scoping, my ass,” Qrow muttered, kicking a stone sullenly. "She's probably going to play with Tai."

Most of their first year at Beacon was over, and the Branwen twins learned absolutely nothing new in all those months. That is, they dominated the other students and could probably do it with their eyes closed. The only “revelation” they got was the sheer abundance of food, weapon support, _comfort_ available to these brats and other privileges they soaked up and wasted. 

Both his weight and Harbinger were vastly improved now that Qrow got access to the hoard, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth how much they were all babied. How would any of these people survive in the real world? In _Qrow_ ’ _s_ world?

Of course, the point was that they wouldn’t. He and Raven would make sure of that. 

Even though Raven won’t admit it, the twins’ initial mission was essentially bust since everyone else is turning out to be _kids._ He endured the weekly gossip, the inane chatter, Summer’s smiles and Tai’s ribbing…

Ah, no point in dwelling on all that. If the oh-so-great Huntsman academy produced naive children, then all the better for their tribe. Maybe they’ll actually camp in one place since Vale’s easy pickings, they wouldn’t have to ambush caravans just to eat…

Shit. Qrow wasn’t getting complacent, was he?

“Bad year?”

Qrow hadn’t realized he had fully hunched over the counter he was sitting at—a juice bar or something—until he looked up at the stranger. A student. Brown hair, teal eyes, confident smile…

His eyes slid down. Atlas uniform.

“Even worse now,” Qrow said, turning away and gulping down the pink monstrosity Raven ordered him earlier as a joke. 

“Come now, just trying to be friendly. That’s what this festival is for, isn’t it?”

“I don’t _mingle_ , pretty boy.”

“Glad to know our first impressions are mutual.” Qrow wanted to punch the pleased smile off that admittedly hot face. 

“Don’t you have a team to keep you from flirting with the enemy?”

His slip-up got a raised eyebrow. “Enemy? That’s a little aggressive.” 

“Enemy, rival, stranger. All the same to me,” Qrow said casually. He flubbed but maybe it’d get the Atlas student to fuck off. He took another sip of the sickly sweet poison, pointedly not looking at the guy.

“You really want to be alone when we hit New Year?” 

The obsession these people had with marking and celebrating random days… For Qrow’s tribe, it was just another day of trying to make ends meet, of plotting their next camp and outlining any changes to the kingdom cargo routes. To the citizens, it was another excuse to burn off their excess resources. 

“He has eyes after all,” Qrow drawled. 

There was a pause. 

Just when Qrow was about to ask if Atlesian feelings were really _that_ sensitive, the other guy blurted out, “I’m Clover.”

“Right.”

The other guy blushed but carried on like a champ. “You dominated my team mate in all the combat rings, if I recall correctly. That was impressive.”

“What, did he come crying to you about it?”

“Your methods were… unorthodox.”

It wasn’t the first time someone made a comment like that about the way he and Raven fought. No one had outright called it _dirty_ yet, but they still tried to pull back a little to let any suspicion die down.

“Travelled a lot as a kid, lots to learn everywhere,” he explained. Heh, wasn’t even a lie. “You should see the kind of stuff they do in Vacuo.”

Clover nodded, accepting it at face value. “Ever been to Atlas?”

“Mhm. Rigid, the lot of you. No surprise your friend lost.”

“Hmm, it’s not the Vytal Festival yet.”

Despite himself, Qrow chuckled. “That’s what I told my sister. Still, you’re all predictable, you lot at Atlas.” He didn’t fail to notice Clover brightening up at his laugh. “Can’t say I thought you’d last this long in my charming company, though.”

“It’s a new dawn at the very least.” Clover checked his watch and nodded to himself. “A few minutes until the fireworks. Everyone should have some company.”

“Ah, fucking off right after midnight then? Classy.”

Clover side-eyed him. “That seems more like your kind of thing.”

Well, the guy wasn’t wrong. And though a big part of Qrow still wanted to skulk back to the dorm on his own, he _had_ been kind of lonely when his team left him behind. Not that he’d ever go near the asinine entertainment they wanted to explore. Summer was hanging out with other friends, and Raven didn’t look like she was coming back anytime soon (he perversely hoped another poor soul tried to invite her into the Tunnel of Love). Tai was at a fucking _ring toss_ the last time he checked in.

And hey, Clover hadn’t tried to drag him off his brooding stool yet, so plus points for him. 

“Name’s Qrow,” he finally said, raising his glass. “Cheers, I guess. Hope you like pink sugary drinks that eat your throat on the way down cuz that's all that's here.”

Clover looked apprehensive at the beverage, but gamely ordered one for himself, saying something about resolutions and trying new things.

**_2_ **

Qrow ran into Clover a lot during their school days. It was understandable since they were both top students all throughout, but he knew that Clover intentionally sought him out no matter the nature of the gathering, just like the first time. Start the new year the way you want the rest of the years to go or whatever people said. 

Qrow couldn’t deny waiting with anticipation every time, though, and Raven liked to make fun of him for it as if she was any better. 

“Easy for you to tease when Tai’s at your beck and call every day.”

Raven sniffed, because even if they both had their lives transformed by Ozpin’s revelations, even if they were given new purpose as well as the opportunity to mellow out, she was still _Raven_. “Call it luck, brother dear.”

It would’ve been a low blow just a couple years past. In fact, Raven wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, except now everything had changed. His Semblance felt like an afterthought, something that came up only when it made Summer trip into a pile of leaves or a Grimm unexpectedly run right into a trap. 

Team STRQ was at the top of their graduating class, Clover was hand-picked for special training for special Atlas soldiers—Qrow refused to dwell on that; at least Clover took it upon himself to expose corrupt officials that exploited small communities, even if he served the system that produced those assholes in the first place—and the future looked bright. 

Qrow’s team had a lot to do for Ozpin’s secret mission, but their now-former headmaster insisted every once in a while that they took time for themselves. Qrow didn’t understand, really… wouldn’t it be crucial that Salem be defeated as soon as possible? He wasn’t naive, he knew that they wouldn’t succeed right away, but shouldn’t they at least focus on the job?

He didn’t understand, but he did trust Ozpin. Plus he wouldn’t say no to a chance to fly out to see Clover. 

“I still can’t figure out how you get here so fast,” Clover told him with a bemused smile.

“Omen,” Qrow said before putting a hand on his chest for dramatic effect. “I’m here to confess that my sister feels a deep connection to you. She sends her undying love.”

That got a deadpan response. “Somehow that feels more like a death threat.”

Qrow grinned and dropped his overnight bag on the floor before plopping down on Clover’s couch. He stretched, groaning as his joints popped. Crow flight was swift but strenuous, especially when he didn’t bother making pit stops due to excitement. “Any plans for tonight, Mr. Ebi?”

“Hmm, there’s food and wine on the table to celebrate the new year with my favourite Branwen,” Clover replied, like it was the most straightforward, casual thing in the world to say.

Qrow bit his lip. “Didn’t know Raven was invited,” he joked, before excusing himself to use the shower. He was usually grimy after the flight to Clover’s apartment. And warm, when Clover welcomed him and said… that shit. Far too warm. 

They had dinner once he was clean and calm, catching up and exchanging stories. They navigated each other with their usual ease, and the warmth in Qrow returned. He was well-fed, relaxed, and in good company that spoiled him terribly.

“I’m starting to get why people like celebratory days like this,” he commented, bumping Clover’s shoulder. They had moved to the tiny balcony in Clover’s place, waiting for the fireworks. 

Clover looked at him, far too close, and smiled. “Only starting? And here I thought I was being a good host all this time.”

“Nope,” Qrow murmured, looking down at Clover’s lips. “You’re the absolute worst.”

They were close enough to kiss, now. There wouldn’t have been a more perfect scenario: a clear night sky, a couple glasses of good wine, and Qrow could swear that a neighbour was playing slow music in the distance. 

And Clover. Clover was there, looking at him oh-so-tenderly, the way he’d always looked at Qrow.

Qrow felt his eyelids flutter nervously. 

He wanted to kiss Clover and knew that Clover wanted the same thing. He wanted to spend the night basking in Clover’s gaze and admiring him in return. 

But he stopped himself. Changed his mind. Refocused on the stars instead. Clover’s disappointment was tangible; it was a pungent, bitter, sorrowful thing to behold. Still, Qrow knew that he’d gently guide them back to friendly ground and affectionate ribbing as the night went on, and Qrow would gladly throw himself at the free pass.

Yes, Qrow wanted to kiss Clover, but he didn’t want to potentially snuff out the brightness he finally got to experience.

He wouldn't take more than he absolutely needed, because his life was finally together and he wasn’t ready for any change that would endanger that. 

**_3_ **

Raven. Tai. Summer. And Tai again. How much heartbreak could a man go through before he finally died?

Fuck, Yang lost a mother all over again. And Ruby was a _baby._

Qrow needed to shape up, get himself together and make a solid plan for what to do with the kids. And leave, like Tai yelled at him to, since he was a walking death trap.

He knew Tai would regret the words later, but he, more than anyone, knew they were true.

A plan. They need to decide what to do now.

Fuck, _Summer._

It was a bad idea. The very worst idea, but Clover had already answered his scroll.

“Qrow?”

“Clover,” he choked. “ _Clover._ ”

Clover, sweet, reliable Clover, came to the shitty room Qrow sometimes slept in. However, he couldn’t come as fast as Qrow flew, so he arrived to see numerous empty bottles and one drunken mess of a man on the floor.

“I heard from Taiyang,” Clover said, kneeling beside him. He gently removed a bottle from Qrow’s grip and made him sit up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Clean,” Qrow repeated. He felt his face crumple. “I’m never clean. I’m never safe. I’m never a good thing, Clover.”

"Nonsense." Clover moved around, picking up the rest of bottles and setting them aside. "Have you eaten at all?"

"Don't want to." He must be quite the sight, with clothes he put on days ago and pained, sightless eyes.

Clover’s eyes were teal. Clover’s teal eyes were always clear. Clover was always smiling when he looked at Qrow.

He wasn’t smiling now. He was looking at Qrow with sadness. Pity? Yeah, Qrow was in deep shit but he didn’t want pity from Clover.

He wanted—

Wanted—

“You smell good,” Qrow whispered, before pulling Clover down to kiss him.

It was sloppy and uncoordinated and the worst kiss in history but _there_ it was: the warmth. Warmth from the skin of someone who loved him. Clover Clover Clover—

“No, Qrow,” Clover said, pushing him back.

How was he so tender while breaking Qrow’s heart? “You want me, so take me."

"Not like this."

"But you’ve—you've always… you’ve always come to me.”

“Yes, and once you’re sober, I'll remind you that I always will.”

“Fuck you,” Qrow wanted to yell, but his body wasn’t following his brain so he kind of wept it instead. “If you were here, none of it would have happened, my Semblance wouldn’t have. Have. _Summer._ ”

Clover was coaxing him to get off the floor, then he disappeared. Qrow’s tears slipped out.

“Tell Clover to stay away,” he cried at whoever was making noise in his bathroom. “S’not safe here.”

He closed his eyes and felt a wet towel wiping his face. “Summer, gerroff me.” His face was wet with tears but now it was wet with water. Unless someone cried into the towel before wiping him with it. 

“I’m going to carry you to bed now.”

“Clover?” It was difficult to get his eyes open. “Will you—will you kiss me?”

He was silently tucked into something soft. Then, he felt a hand run through his hair.

His hair was going to be messy, just like when he finished flying. Did Qrow fly to bed?

More of the wet towel, this time down his neck, then his arms. “Feathers can’t get wet,” he complained. “Bad idea.”

“...I promise not to get any feathers wet.”

He was suddenly angry. “Go away, Clover.” When Clover wouldn’t stop, he grabbed the towel. Well, he tried, but he missed and grabbed Clover’s wrist instead. “Go away!” He started crying again. “Go away, go away, go away…”

“I’m here, Qrow,” Clover murmured, hugging him. When did Clover arrive? Qrow could hear his heartbeat with an ear pressed to his chest like this. Why was Clover’s shirt wet?

“It’s… it’s the new year,” Qrow said with a sudden burst of clarity. Clover must’ve known and flew all the way to Qrow, as per their tradition. Clover was amazing, good, and gentle, and why was Qrow crying?

“Yes, and you’re not alone.”

“It’s the new year,” Qrow sobbed, and continued to do so until he finally fell asleep.

**_4_**  
  
Clover collapsed on the couch beside Qrow and snuggled into him with a groan. Amused, Qrow put his hands on the other man’s shoulders and started kneading. “I told you that you’d regret your plan to cook enough for an army.”

“No regrets,” Clover protested. “I made good decisions.”

“Should I stop then, Mr. No Regrets?” Qrow laughed when Clover groaned again, this time in protest.

“It’ll be great, having all of them here. I miss them.”

“I know,” he replied, leaning over to kiss Clover’s temple. “But you don’t have to work so hard to impress them, you know? They know you, you’re already the number one uncle.”

Clover snorted, “I think it was just last week when Ruby, Nora and Penny threatened to break every bone in my body if I hurt you.”

“See? They love you,” Qrow laughed. He finished his massage and began stroking Clover’s hair. 

“I negotiated to get dibs on the first few bones.”

“Hmm, as if there’ll be anything left for anyone else after I’m through.”

Clover turned around to kiss him like the dork he was. Qrow warmed up to that quickly enough, but pushed Clover back playfully. “I hear your timer going off,” he said when Clover tried to insist on making out. 

“Shit, the roast!”

Qrow followed him into the kitchen at a more sedate pace. “Smells good. Still too much for a dozen people, methinks.” Huntsmen ate a lot, sure, but literally all of their surfaces were covered with the special thermal containers Clover ordered just for this New Year’s gathering. _All_ of the surfaces. Not to mention that their fridge was bursting with dessert. “Have pity on me, I’m the one going to clean up later, you know.”

“It’s the first time we’re all celebrating the new year together. I like feeding you, but varying opinions on my ability can only do good.” Clover’s smile deepened, showing his dimples. “And it's _our_ first time hosting as a couple.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow.

“Well, officially! It's much better this way."

“Heavens forbid we do anything without due process,” Qrow snarked, even though everything leading up to this moment was more or less a hot mess. Oh well. They’ll need to get serious about legalities later on, once they decide to get married.

But that was for another year. Qrow wanted to get used to this first: having peace of mind, guiding the next generation to be better than his was, nurturing a home of his very own and feeling comfortable enough to approach Clover and occupy the space created solely for him.

He wrapped his arms around Clover, leaning all his weight against the back of today’s frazzled chef. Frazzled or not, Clover would let him stay as long as he'd like.

“No early desserts.”

“Don’t want your overcomplicated desserts,” Qrow lied, his voice muffled by the muscled shoulder blade.

"As if you won't be hoarding everything in the end. Whole bottom shelf's yours, you know? Otherwise we'd run out."

He bit into flesh as a scolding then rested his chin on the groove of Clover’s shoulder. 

Usually Clover was the clingy one, to the point that could be called downright bratty. But Qrow was learning. Slowly, sure, but Clover’s always been patient and took genuine pleasure in anything Qrow managed to give him.

Now, when Qrow continued to hold him, he hummed happily even though it must have been impeding his work. "Care to tell me what I did right so that I can add it to my hourly agenda?"

Dork.

“I just realized I agree, is all,” Qrow murmured. “We do have something to celebrate. It _was_ a good year." After a beat, he added, "Also, I'm trying to butter you up before I tell you that I bought fireworks for the kids to play with.”

_"Qrow!"_

  
  
_**+1** _

Clover grew up in a town near the borders of Solitas that held an annual countdown party for the New Year. 

He used to enjoy that with his family and friends. The potluck, the mini performances, the interesting visitors, and fun dances in the plaza. But he was thirteen years old now and his Semblance unlocked a while ago. Since then, everyone and everything wanted to be in his space and it was suffocating to be around people who wanted to take, take, take.

He helped set up the plaza and ran a few errands for the neighbours earlier, and he was happy to do so. Still, he eagerly snuck out of the festivities and went outside of town.

Since he lived near a border, there was a pit stop nearby for cargo vehicles to land and wind down before making it to the capital, or for pilots to stock up their personal resources before heading to the other kingdoms. 

Clover liked staying in the elevated terrain overlooking all the hustle and bustle. There was a sturdy old tree that he called his favourite, climbing up and resting against it. From there, he observed the compound, brought a book or took a nap. Not exactly safe to nap in a tree, but his luck hadn’t run out yet.

All in all, it was a peaceful place. But not tonight.

Almost unnoticeable in the darkness, suspicious figures were circling one of the parked cargo planes.

Security was usually reliable here, but much less so than in the main cities. Clover could spot two guards on the opposite side sharing what he assumed to be a bottle of alcohol, and he knew that a lot more visited his town to party. Everyone else was distracted by the festivities. 

It was the perfect moment to break into or hijack the vehicles. 

He considered calling out to the patrol, but the thieves would also hear. He couldn’t quietly approach the guards either, because the thieves might have been long gone with all the valuable goods by the time they crossed the compound. 

Slowly, he moved towards the targeted vehicle. After all, he was an eager thirteen-year-old boy whose luck hadn’t run out yet. 

All the doors of the vehicle were open and he could make out some of the group leaving with their loot. Bandits, maybe?

Only a few were left, and two of them sounded like they were arguing.

“—most of it would go bad anyway, we got enough—”

“—piss off those high and mighty royal fuckfaces in Atlas—”

“You guys go back with the goods already, okay? I’ll cover our tracks.”

The girl who was arguing with him stayed silent for a minute before huffing. “Fine. But _I_ lead the next mission.”

Soon, it was just the apparent leader. “Come out,” the stranger called, eerily accurate in the direction he was facing. “Or I’ll find you, and you won’t like it.”

Clover startled, he hadn’t expected to be caught so quickly. He squared his shoulders and came forward with his weapon drawn. 

“You’re trespassing and stealing,” he accused, trying to imitate the domineering tone he sometimes heard the soldiers use.

“What are you, a cop?” the bandit sneered. There was a weapon strapped to his side, but it was too dark for Clover to identify it.

“No, but I’m going to have to turn you in.”

“For what? Stealing a paltry amount of food from Atlesians who gorge themselves on more than they need? You’re from the town nearby, aren’t you? Would you rather we took from you? It'll be difficult to fund a party next year if we do.” 

Clover hardened his jaw. “Is that a threat?”

“No. Look, kid,” the thief sighed, crossing his arms. The moonlight revealed red eyes and Clover had the distinct impression that they were the same age despite his airs. “Go back to your people, I’ll go back to mine. We’re hungry, alright? It’s not like we stole enough to begin celebrations of our own. We’ll be long gone by the morning.”

Bandits, then. Clover didn’t know much about the nomadic tribes but he still wondered how these people made camp in the area without raising an alarm.

“It’s still not your property.” Truly, Clover wanted to capture his person and bring him to the authorities to be questioned, but as time passed, he had less and less of an idea of how to do that. After all, he didn’t expect a bandit to send away his companions and make conversation in the dark.

“Yeah, alright. But it was either this or sack your town.” Clover tensed when the boy moved. “Stand down, guard dog, I’m just giving you this.” He waved around a datapad before tossing it at Clover, who caught it reflexively. 

“This is the vehicle’s manifest,” Clover was confused and despite his better judgment, he read it. As expected, it listed food products, but an almost obscene amount of it, considering it referenced a whole fleet of vehicles like this one that were expected in the same month. 

Clover looked at the open plane, glancing at the nearly-full compartments and trailing his eyes over to the bandit’s exposed forearms, which were thin and frail-looking despite his strong throw. 

“You barely took anything.”

“He has eyes after all,” the bandit drawled.

Clover expected it to be supply for a business chain, but it was an order from a single household—there were reports and exchanges that the Atlesian general ordering this had strong-armed his way to getting all of it at cheaper prices, even the batches from small communities that just happened to have fertile land. All the expensive items like wine and artisan goods were from businesses that the general had intimidated into moving him up the order list.

He didn’t like how it made him feel. He didn’t like the implications of it nor did he like how this strange, thieving bandit was the one who was forcing this information on him.

Unsure of what to do, Clover opened his mouth to… demand that the bandit still turn himself in? Demand answers about the corruption of the world? Demand the boy’s name…?

In the end, he didn’t have to figure it out, for the boy was gone when he looked back. He left the vehicle and the rest of the valuables. He left the leaves of the trees whispering in the soft breeze. He left quiet darkness and he left...

He left—

Behind Clover, the fireworks signifying the new year began to explode and light up the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Manifesting canon FG over at [tumblr!](https://robiness.tumblr.com/)


End file.
